


Brojobs

by tryasockon



Category: Buzzfeed The Try Guys (Web Series)
Genre: Bad Sex, Blow Jobs, Handcuffed Together, M/M, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 06:48:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15358632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryasockon/pseuds/tryasockon
Summary: Zach comes up with a plan to keep Eugene from running away during a night out.





	Brojobs

“Eugene’s a runner, so if we want him to stay with us all night, we need a plan.” Keith said it with such confidence that it seemed, somehow, reasonable. “I’m thinking handcuffs, or possibly, we hamstring him.”

“Handcuffs like to something or someone?” Zach asked. “Because if it’s some _one_ , I volunteer, I want to see what it’s like to party like Eugene.”

“You mean competently?” Ned said, which was big words for someone who had a song about not knowing what to do with his hands.

“Yeah, that would work,” Keith said. “Zach is so slow and fragile, Eugene wouldn’t be able to make it far.”

“I resent that,” Zach said. “I can’t contradict it, but I do resent it. I just want that known.”

“It’s okay, we love your tiny old man body,” Ned said and wrapped him in a hug. “Do you think you can trick Eugene into handcuffing himself to you, or do we need to surprise him and hold him down?”

“Let’s try trickery first,” Zach said. “Do you guys, like, _have_ handcuffs?”

“No,” Keith said.

“I have fuzzy ones, but I’m not sure I want to lend them out,” Ned said. “I use them with my wife.”

“Please give me no more information,” Zach said and pulled out his phone. Eugene was at the top of his recent calls, so it was easy to start the call. He answered in a few rings.

“Hey, what’s up?” There was music in the background, but Eugene sounded as happy as ever.

“Are you pregaming without us?” Zach asked, momentarily distracted.

“Well, yeah,” Eugene said. “Of course.”

Zach scoffed. “Not anymore you’re not! I’m coming over.” When he was about to hang up, Keith and Ned made faces at him, Keith bumping his wrists together. “Oh, yeah, do you have handcuffs?”

“Ye-es,” Eugene said tentatively. 

“Cool, can you get them out? I’ll be there in ten.”

“Why do I need—“

Zach hung up. “Operation: Keep Eugene with us is a go,” he said and shot a thumbs up at Keith and Ned. “Also, I’ll meet you at the bar.”

When he got to Eugene’s, there were liquor bottles out and some poppy music playing. Eugene was as stunning as always, with glitter on his temples and cheekbones and an outfit that would have looked ridiculous on anyone with an ounce less confidence.

“Handcuffs?” Zach asked. “No, first: do you have any wine?”

“God, you’re old,” Eugene said, pulling a bottle of red out. “Every day I’m stunned that you’re not sharing wine mom memes on Facebook.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Zach said, for lack of a better retort. “Just pour.”

Eugene grinned at him and poured a generous glass. While Zach sipped, Eugene did two shots and finished getting ready, a process that involved a lot of hairspray and a few more touches of make-up, including a lip tint that made his mouth look, like…kissable. Which was not something Zach should be thinking less than a glass into the night.

He drained the rest of his wine. “Okay, so, handcuffs?”

“Yeah, they’re on the counter behind the tequila,” Eugene said, teasing a last strand of hair into place.

Zach leaned over the counter and snagged the handcuffs. “How do these work?” he asked. “Is there a key?”

Eugene abandoned his mirror and headed over. “The keys should be with them — you just unlock them, dude, I don’t know how to explain it. Hey, you never said what you wanted these for.”

Zach fumbled with the key until the cuffs fell open, and then grabbed Eugene’s hand and cuffed them together. It was the smoothest thing he’d ever done. “No running away tonight, bitch!”

Eugene twisted his wrist, rattling the cuffs. The motion passed through to Zach’s, kind of uncomfortably. “You know I’m just going to take the key away from you, right?”

Zach shoved the key down the front of his pants, right in his underwear. “Go for it,” he said brightly.

Eugene narrowed his eyes. “Fine.”

They Ubered to the bar, Eugene icily silent, and the Uber driver uncomfortably silent. Zach sent Keith and Ned a snap of their handcuffed hands with a heart drawn around them. Eugene gave him the finger, which just made it better. 

The bar was crowded and loud, and there were shots of various kinds and dancing! So much dancing. Eugene kept trying to dance with people, but they always moved away when they noticed the handcuffs. It didn’t take long before the bitching started. It ended with, “I wanted to get _laid_.”

“What’s stopping you?” Zach asked.

Eugene held up his handcuffed wrist and shook it. “This,” Eugene said. “Obviously. Come on, let me go.”

Zach started tugging him toward the bathroom — the handicapped, single stall bathroom, a _hilarious_ piece of accessibility in a building with the narrowest stairs Zach had ever tripped his way up.

“I don’t want to see you piss again,” Eugene complained. 

“I’m not gonna piss,” Zach said. “Although — no, I’m not gonna piss. Just. Get in.”

Zach locked the door behind them. Eugene was still complaining when Zach shoved him against the wall and went to his knees. They immediately complained, but in the distant, ignorable way that things hurt when he was drunk.

“Oh _what_ ,” Eugene said and tried to bat Zach’s hands away from his fly. He giggled, nervously, which was _adorable_ , and also a sign that he was pretty drunk himself. “What are you _doing_?”

“You wanted to get laid,” Zach said. “A blowjob is getting laid.”

“How drunk _are_ you?”

“ _Eh_ ,” Zach said. 

Eugene grabbed his chin to stop him from nuzzling at Eugene’s crotch and the quickly growing hardness there. “That’s not an answer,” he said, sounding surprisingly tender.

“I will probably call it a brojob in the morning,” Zach said. “If that tells you anything.”

“It really doesn’t,” Eugene said.

“I’m good, dude, and just, like, so charmed that you’re checking in on me instead of letting me suck your dick, but also, I would like to suck your dick.”

Eugene let go of his chin. “How can I say no to that?”

“You can’t, obviously,” Zach said, unzipping him and pulling him out. “God, of course you’ve got a nice dick. Of _course_.”

“This is so far from the first time you’ve seen my dick that I’ve lost count.”

“Yeah,” Zach said, “but not _hard._ ”

Zach was bringing a few things into this blowjob: 1) about twenty minutes of gay porn knowledge, from a few different sessions where he got curious and then embarrassed and had to turn it off, 2) a tiny mouth, and 3) a hell of a lot of enthusiasm.

He started at the head. Not that there was anywhere else to start — unless maybe he should have started by licking the whole thing? It was too late to doubt himself, the head of Eugene’s cock was already heavy on his tongue. It filled his mouth, and he tongued tentatively at the flare of head to shaft.

Eugene groaned and touched his head, not grabbing, just hovering there. It was almost like when they’d done the blowjob shot, but Zach was about 50% less likely to spit up all over the floor.

Every blowjob Zach had ever received went out of his head. He wasn’t sure what to do with his mouth, or hands, or about three quarters of Eugene’s dick, so he just stayed there for a moment, feeling dumb. Eugene nudged at his head, gently, and he started to move, bobbing his head, and wrapping a hand around the part of the shaft he couldn’t fit in his mouth.

His jaw started to ache pretty much immediately. He pulled off with a pop that would have made him blush if he wasn’t already bright red — he could feel the heat coming off his face, and it was only partially due to the alcohol. “Hey,” he said, and Eugene stared down at him, a little wild-eyed. “How long do you think this is going to take, roughly?”

Eugene’s face was priceless, and Zach took a moment to mourn that he wasn’t recording this, even though that would have been an _awful_ idea. “That,” Eugene said, “depends _entirely_ on you. At this rate? It would be faster for me to jerk myself off.”

“That’d be hot.”

“No, Zach, it would be annoying, because hooking up in a public bathroom is debatably hot, while jerking off in a public bathroom is always disgusting.”

Zach licked his dick, aiming for coy, and, if he was interpreting Eugene’s expression of fond annoyance correctly, absolutely not hitting the mark. Still, it was easier to start blowing him again than thinking of something to say. He tried taking Eugene deeper and deeper as he got more confident, until he went too deep and the head of Eugene’s cock tapped the back of his throat and he gagged a little.

“Oh, shit, are you okay? Don’t throw up on me,” Eugene said, pulling Zach’s head back with both hands. It meant Zach hit himself in the neck with the handcuffed hand, which was bad timing, but not bad enough to make him throw up.

“I’m good, I’m good,” he said. “I’m hurt that you don’t trust me.”

“The last blowjob you gave me ended with liquor all over my pants, so…”

“Okay, first of all, fuck you, second of all, that doesn’t count.”

Eugene grinned. “I mean, if you insist,” he said, guiding Zach back to his dick.

It took him a little while, but he figured out a good rhythm, using his mouth and hand, and not going deep enough to trigger his gag reflex. Eugene went from responsive to quiet, the muscles of his thighs tight under Zach’s hands. 

He was hard, he realized. He hadn’t expected this to turn him on this much. Well, _expecting_ anything would have been a neat trick, given that the plan had been entirely spur of the moment. But still — the thought had been _keep Eugene here_. 

 _Get off on it_ had never entered the equation.

Those were thoughts for either sober Zach in the morning, or future-drunk Zach. Current-drunk Zach was gonna take things as they came, which, hopefully, they were about to.

He rested the handcuffed hand on Eugene’s hip and a moment later, Eugene’s fingers laced with his. He glanced up through his eyelashes to see Eugene had his head tilted back against the bathroom wall, his eyes closed, his lips parted. He was beautiful, and Zach wanted him to look down, to see Zach here, and know that it was _Zach_ that was doing this to him, Zach and no one else.

When he felt Eugene tense infinitesimally more, he pulled off, hand still going, and said, “Hey. Try Guys try guys.”

Eugene snorted, and then he was coming. The first spurt caught Zach high on the cheekbone, under his eye, the second on his grinning mouth.

“Shit,” Eugene said, “shit, I’m sorry, I meant to warn you — here,” he shoved toilet paper at Zach and started wiping clumsily at his face.

They maneuvered across the bathroom until Zach’s back was pressed against the sink as Eugene wiped his face clean. The handcuffed hands were really in the way, so Zach reached into his pants and pulled out the keys.

“You’re letting me go?” Eugene asked, eyebrows up.

Zach shrugged. “I’ve made my arguments.”

Eugene nodded. “Pretty convincing ones, too.”

“Yeah?”

Eugene leaned closer to him so their forehead were pressed together. “Yeah,” he said, and dropped a quick kiss on his lips. He pulled away just as quick and headed for the door. “Come on, motherfucker. Let’s dance.”


End file.
